


here in waiting

by misskatieleigh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s04e20 The Last Man, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-28
Updated: 2008-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course Rodney left a VR in the stasis pod for him....</p>
            </blockquote>





	here in waiting

John closed his eyes and stepped back into the stasis chamber, vaguely aware of the blue light washing over him and Rodney’s image flickering out of existence in front. Everything stilled for a minute, leavin behind silence and a slightly cold feeling, and then John opened his eyes.

The man standing in front of him looked like Rodney – well, what Rodney probably had looked like when he was twenty, at least. The lighter, longer hair reminded John of a hairstyle from the late 80’s, but the vibrant blue eyes and mobile mouth were the same, if a little brighter and more technicolor than he’d ever imagined before. Not that he'd been imagining what Rodney looked like when he was young for any reason, but Jeannie may have sent some incriminating photos once or twice, for blackmail or something. In any case, that still didn’t explain why this young version of Rodney was standing in front of him with the same self impressed smirk spread across his face that he had twenty years in the future of this version.

“Rodney?”

Rodney clapped his hands together and stepped forward until he was crowding into John’s personal space. “Ah good, you made it in all right. I was starting to wonder if something went wrong on the outside”, he said, his smirk spreading out into a wide smile.

John stepped back, looking up for the first time to take in his surroundings. They were standing in what looked like a regular hallway in Atlantis, the illusion ruined only slightly by the lack of any other people besides himself and Rodney. “On the…outside. Right, okay – wait, so out there you’re old and in here you’re really young? What’s up with that?” John asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

That seemed to confuse Rodney for a second, his mouth pausing half open with a response as his virtual brain spun to find the proper response. When he finally figured out the answer, Rodney’s mouth snapped closed and a dangerous smile spread across his face. “Oh, well I guess it all depends on you while we’re in here. How old I am, that is. This is just the default point.”

John raised one eyebrow quizzically. “Jesus Christ, Rodney. You’re not really helping with the illusion of reality here with the return to factory settings”, he snapped, his confusion drifting into frustration.

Rodney tilted his head to the side, an action that would have looked humorous on an older version, but somehow fit with the slim frame and soft hair. “Well I’m sorry - but you asked, Sheppard. And if you don’t like this version, just tell me how old you want me to look and the VR will adjust.”

John turned, facing away from Rodney and down the endless empty hallway. “Seven hundred years with no one except for me and you, huh? Yeah, this shouldn’t be at all awkward when I get back and have to interact with the *real* you again.” His sarcasm was muted only by the way his voice broke over the word _real_.

Rodney’s hand landed heavily on John’s shoulder, tugging him back around to look at Rodney’s face again. This time Rodney looked like John remembered, all broad shoulders and receding hairline underlined by that constant crooked mouth, his expedition uniform replacing low hanging jeans and threadbare t-shirt. John let his breath out in a heavy sigh, reaching out to curl his fingers into the rumpled fabric of Rodney’s uniform jacket and tug him forward into the faltering curve of John’s arms.

“Rodney”, he whispered, turning his face into the simulated warmth of Rodney’s neck, the scratch of stubble and fabric softener scent mimicking reality. “Twenty five years…”

Apparently this response was something Rodney _had_ anticipated, for there was no hesitation in Rodney’s arms as they came up around John’s back and started a soothing stroke down his spine. “I had to try, John. Besides, it was my turn.”

John choked back a laugh, his breath huffing warmly into the familiar curve of Rodney’s neck. “So what are we supposed to do for the next seven hundred years?”

Rodney pulled away, the normal smugness returning to his face. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

John only hesitated for a moment before he was kissing Rodney, re-memorizing the span of his mouth and mapping out the curve of his jaw with shaking fingers. He pulled back, resting his forehead against Rodney’s. “You really think that I can fix this?”

Rodney opened his eyes, his smile fading back into a serious line that tilted down toward the floor. “I’d bet my life on it.”

 


End file.
